


Scars to Show

by Jenniwrites



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies), race to the edge - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Getting Older, Intimacy, Scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-01
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-07-28 18:43:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7652548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jenniwrites/pseuds/Jenniwrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Middle Aged Hiccstrid - Hiccup watches Astrid undress after a bath and reflects on their life. <br/>Another fluff warning. It's not smut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scars to Show

Scars to Show

 

Hiccup groaned as he shifted uncomfortably in his bed, while attempting to find a sweet spot in the worn straw mattress. His shoulder, bruised and gravel burned, stung and ached.

I am getting too old for this, Hiccup thought to himself.

He was gifted a new stallion, earlier in the week, named Rudder, from a neighboring tribe after his old stead had to be put to pasture. It seemed Rudder insisted on showing Hiccup that he did not have a way with horses like he did with dragons.

Oh how Hiccup missed the ease and rush of riding Toothless and the intrinsic way the two of them were able to read each other and work together as a unit.

Hiccup smiled at the thought of his old companion and the feeling of taking to the sky. No matter how high they flew or far he fell, he felt safe with Toothless. They protected each other. As steady as his past horse was, his relationship with Toothless could never be replaced. He was more than a dragon. He was a friend.

Twenty years had passed since the dragons left Berk and Hiccup still felt the absence of his dragon friend. He hoped wherever Toothless was now, he was well and his life was full of blessings.

 

With a grunt, Hiccup turned on his side at the sound of footsteps up the loft stairs to see Astrid returning from the bathhouse. The scent of lavender soap beat her to him.

Hiccup watched as Astrid removed his bear skin cloak she had a tendency to borrow on bath nights and draped it over chair by the dresser. She was wearing a thin linen shift and had her hair wrapped in a towel. He wondered how girls, and well, Tuffnut, managed to get the towels to stay on their heads like that.

Astrid removed the towel. Damp white and flaxen waves cascaded over her shoulders. She attempted to pat them as dry as she could, before running them through with a bone toothed comb and twisting them into a loose braid. She tossed the plait of silver and gold over her shoulder. 

When she was finished, she made her way to the bed.  She hiked the skirt of her dressing gown above her knees to climb in.

“You should just take that off.” Hiccup smirked.

“You should never mind and get your rest. That shoulder needs to heal.”

Hiccup chuckled. The laughter made him wince. She was right.

 “I just want to look at you.”

“I am not sure why. I am no longer the looker I once was,” Astrid sighed.

It was true that time was no nicer to her than it was to anyone else. It had carved its lines into her skin, widened her hips and rounded her face. The glow of youth had faded, she thought to herself.

“Hey now, Astrid. You will always be beautiful to me.”

Astrid smiled, slipped the gown over her head, and crawled into bed beside her husband. She knew he could have, and still could, take another wife, one that still held the vitality of youth, if he so desired. She also knew, he wouldn’t.

Hiccup laid his hand to rest upon her thigh. He ran his fingers over a dip in the skin where she was once shot in thigh by a dragon arrow she took for her dragon Stormfly.

One scar of many, gained on one mission or another, for him or Berk.

He traced his fingers up and over the white lines that marred her hips and breasts, the battle scars of motherhood, from the four children she grew inside her, nourished at her breast and with her love.

For him. For Berk.

She gave him everything he ever wanted or knew he needed. She was a much of a part of him now as his two hands or his heart.

He brushed her bangs out of her eyes. Their eyes locked and they exchanged a thousand “Do you know how much I love you” s without saying a word.

Astrid tilted his chin and kissed him on top of the scar nearly as old as he was, then inspected the gravel burn upon his shoulder.

“I wonder if that is going to scar?” She asked.

“Probably. Though, I remember a young girl once saying, ‘something is only fun if you get a scar out of it’.”

Astrid laughed, ‘Well, you and me, Old man. We sure have had our share of fun,” and she snuggled in to his lightening scarred arms. He kissed her hair and smiled and fell asleep with his thoughts full of scars and love and blessings.

  


End file.
